Steel Rush (In the Shadows#5)

by P. T. Michelle

  “Sounds good. I’ll be waiting.”

  Hanging up, I get out of my car and start toward my apartment entrance when my steps slow. Ben is leaning against the post right outside the building, his arms crossed.

  When I arrived at my apartment yesterday, my doorman told me a guy named Ben stopped by and left his number for me. I was glad I’d missed that conversation, but it looks like I can’t avoid it any longer.

  Stepping onto the sidewalk, I haul my camera bag onto my shoulder. “Hey, Ben.”

  He meets me halfway across the sidewalk, his wool jacket open, hands in his jean pockets. “Hey.”

  He doesn’t look angry or even mad, so I put my hand out and smile. “I’m Cass.”

  Ben lets out a half-laugh and takes my hand. “Nice to know your real name.” Releasing my hand, he looks at me with a self-deprecating smirk. “Though I’m pretty sure I knew all along you weren’t Celeste. I knew something was different. But I didn’t care. That girl I couldn’t take my eyes off of four years ago at that masked party was back…and I was going to do everything in my power to keep her.”

  “Ben…” I say, unsure how to reply to that statement. His world has just been torn apart with his father’s arrest. So far the papers haven’t disclosed Celeste’s pregnancy or talked about the evidence that links her death to Phillip, but still, Ben must be spinning.

  “I know you were just playing a part, Cass, but I wanted you to know that I didn’t believe any of what my father and Gregory accused you of.”

  As I nod my appreciation, realization dawns. “Did you send a lawyer to help me?”

  “I did, but it appears your lawyer ate mine for lunch.” Nodding, he gestures toward the sidewalk. “Can we take a walk?”

  “Sure,” I say, falling in line beside him.

  Ben looks straight ahead, and says, “I’m sincerely sorry for what my father tried to do to you, Cass. I’m not sure how many of the despicable things he’s being accused of are true, and honestly, I don’t want to know the details. But if even part of it is, I hope he pays for it. I think Jake is in shock. He’s kind of disappeared, but my mom is fully supporting my dad. She doesn’t believe any of it.”

  “Why do you believe it?” I ask, curious as to what would make a son turn against his father.

  Ben squints against the cool wind ruffling his dark hair. “Because of what he tried to do to you.”

  “Me?” When I gape at him, he nods.

  “You were the final push I needed to accept that my father is truly a bad person. I’ve grown up watching him manipulate everyone around him into doing what he wants: my mother, my brother, me, Gregory. I can’t tell you how many times he pitted Jake against me. I would always be second fiddle to Jake in his eyes. When I was younger, I was in awe of his powers of persuasion, but as I grew older, I came to recognize his machinations for what they really were…sheer selfishness. He doesn’t care for anyone other than himself. The fact that he fully supported my request to marry Celeste, overriding Jake’s assumption that he would be with her, should’ve been a red flag to me that more was going on. Celeste and I really seemed to click that night, so I was too happy to question it.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. For all of it. No son should have to compete for his father’s love or approval.”

  Ben shrugs. “He’s the reason Jake and I aren’t close like brothers should be. I don’t plan to attend any of his hearings or support him. I’m beyond furious that they let him out on bail.”

  I instantly stop and turn to him. “What? He’s out? Since when?”

  He glances at his watch. “My mom called to tell me an hour ago.”

  And just like that, the sense of relief I’d been feeling completely evaporates and my mind starts whirling. Does Phillip know I was the one behind the evidence against him? “But he’s been charged with murder. How is that even possible?”

  “My father is one of the best lawyers in New York. He’s been ‘cooperating’ with the police…and there’s no body. No one can work the system like Phillip Hemming.”

  Ben is suddenly shoved away from my side, and Calder pulls me behind him, growling in a deadly tone, “Stay the fuck away from her, you Hemming piece of shit.”

  “Calder!” Pushing free of his hold, I dodge around him and step between he and Ben just as Ben rebalances and charges back at Calder.

  Barring my hands on both guys’ chests, I look at Ben and say in a calm voice, “I think it’s time for you to go, Ben.”

  He looks down at me, still fuming at Calder’s unprovoked attack, but I nod firmly. “I’m serious, Ben. Now is not a good time. Please, just leave.”

  I wait until Ben drives away to face Calder. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  His expression turns livid. “The moment I find out that Phillip is free, I rush over here to make sure that you’re safe, only to find you chatting it up with the murderous bastard’s son? How many more sick Hemming fucks are you going to hang out with?”

  I step back, gutted by that slap in the face. “Why would you say something so mean?”

  “So you wake the fuck up and stay away from him,” he bites out.

  We glare at each other for a second before he rubs his forehead and sighs. “Go pack a bag, Cass. I’ll take you over to Bash and Talia’s.”

  I turn to walk back toward my apartment, fury building in my chest that I let Sebastian’s comments about Calder and me get in my head. What Calder just said was meant to hurt. Who does that to someone they care about? I’m going to take that fucking choker and wrap it around Sebastian’s neck.

  When Calder starts to follow me inside the main door, I turn and push him back. “If I decide to go to Talia and Sebastian’s, I’ll drive myself there. Since you’re all about keeping your distance lately, you should probably get back to that.”

  The muscle in Calder’s jaw jumps. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Oh yeah? Who’s going to protect me from you?”

  Calder steps back, tension etching the brackets on his face. “You’re probably right. This is for the best.”

  I watch him walk away, his hands deep in his jean pockets. My heart slowly shreds with each step he takes. I want to call him back and demand that he tell me what’s going on because the Calder I thought I knew doesn’t say intentionally cruel things.

  I hadn’t planned on coming, but for some reason after taking three more hours of photos, my car finds its way to Trinity’s cemetery. The cemetery is peaceful with just a few others paying their respects to their loved ones.

  Parked outside the gates, I watch the Carvers say goodbye to their oldest daughter, while the pastor reads scripture from the Bible in his hand.

  It’s a small group, just the immediate family: Gregory, Nadine, and Beth, while their security guards stand discretely back.

  Nadine’s hair partially covers her face as she weeps uncontrollably. Beth tries to console her mother as her father stands there stoically, his face pale and unblinking.

  The pastor stops speaking and moves away to give the family some privacy. Beth lays a bouquet of pink roses on her sister’s grave, and then takes the red roses her mom is holding and puts them on the grave too. Standing, she helps her mother walk inside the church, while Gregory follows slowly behind. The pastor goes in last, closing the door behind him.

  I wait a few minutes, and then put on my sunglasses as I make my way through the front gate. I’m thankful that the media has respected Gregory’s wishes for privacy, but the last thing I want is for anyone to see me and recognize Celeste.

  The flowers are both beautiful and bittersweet lying against the brand new headstone. Untouched by weather and time, the stone shines. My lips tremble when I squat down and read the inscription.

  May Celeste and her little angel find peace in heaven’s arms.

  “I’m sorry for what happened to you, Celeste. I tried my best to help.”

  My heart jumps when Beth speaks quietly beside me. “I had to slip out for a bit while the
pastor talks with my parents. It was getting to me.”

  When I straighten to stand beside her, she lifts her gaze to mine. “I should never have doubted you, Cass. I’m sorry. Truly I am.”

  I shake my head. “I understand. Phillip was very good. It’s how he got away with everything he did for so long.”

  “And he still might,” Beth says, curling her lip in disgust. “We just learned that they released Phillip on bail. Our lawyer says bail was probably allowed because all the evidence against him is circumstantial. He says the prosecutor will need something more than just the fact that Celeste was pregnant with his baby and them driving on the same road to try to get it revoked.”

  My brow furrows. “But what about the diary? It shows a pattern of Celeste’s dark thoughts that goes back for years, starting right after that Fourth of July vacation.”

  Beth blinks. “Celeste only called the person the Deceiver and other names in her diary. She never mentioned Phillip directly.”

  I bite my lip, wishing we could have tied the Deceiver text from that burner phone to Phillip. Unfortunately because a baby wasn’t directly mentioned either, lawyers can only make assumptions that that person was talking about an unborn child. But there’s a definite threat toward Celeste in the text…if we could only tie it to Phillip.

  I sigh my frustration and look at Beth, noting the dark circles under her eyes as she quietly stares at her sister’s headstone. “How are you doing, Beth?”

  “My mother cries a lot, though it’s getting less now. My father is devastated. Not only did he lose his daughter, but he was betrayed in the worst possible way by his best friend. He’s decided not to run for the Senate and instead focus on our family. He and I are going to run Carver Enterprises together so he can spend more time with Mom.”

  She said all that like she was reading it off a teleprompter. I reach over and clasp her hand. “I asked how you were doing.”

  She squeezes my hand and exhales a shaky breath. “You’ve been more a sister to me these past few days then Celeste has been since we were kids.” She glances down at the gravestone. “I don’t blame her; I now know that Phillip was the one who changed her.”

  Looking back at me, she says, “I’d better get back inside, take care, Cass.” She starts to walk away, then quickly turns back. Opening her purse, she holds out an envelope. “I’ve decided to pull closer to home too. I think you had fun that night we went to Brent’s MMA event. Why don’t you use this? I won’t be going.”

  “Are you and Brent over?” I ask, trying to keep the relief out of my voice.

  She glances down at the envelope she’s holding, her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Take it and keep me from temptation.”

  I quickly take it before she changes her mind. “When you’re ready, the right guy will come along.”

  She shrugs. “Honestly, Cass. I don’t really care. Right now I’m just…numb.”

  Before she can walk away, I give her a quick hug. “Goodbye, Beth. Take care of yourself.” I’m surprised at how tightly she hugs me back, so I whisper into her hair, “You will always miss Celeste, but over time the pain will fade.”

  Sobbing, she squeezes me once more, then hurries back into the church.

  I stand behind a tree, digging my fingers into the bark as I watch them hovering around Celeste’s grave.

  Gregory looks pale. Did he ever really care about her? Or is that guilt adding more lines to his face?

  Nadine is sobbing. I never remember her being an emotional person.

  Beth’s expression is blank as she tries to console her mother.

  So much grief over an empty coffin.

  I know where she is…but they’ll never find her.

  She had to remain mine forever.

  I’ve come full circle with my acceptance of her death.

  My gaze drops to her headstone as her family walks into the church.

  Now no one can try to impersonate her.

  Celeste was unique. A one of a kind.

  She’ll remain that way, frozen in time.

  Peace washes through me. “Things are as they should be.” I start to walk away when someone else approaches her grave.

  What’s she doing here? Cass Rockwell, who all the news outlets are dubbing as Celeste’s “doppelganger,” bends down and stares at the inscription. When I move to another tree to get a better view, Beth joins her by the grave. I watch her straighten next to Celeste’s sister and dissect their expressions. Frustration. Anger. Sympathy. Friendship?

  My gaze sharpens. No one can resurrect Celeste.

  I won’t allow it.

  Celeste must remain mine forever.

  Darkness descends on the empty graveyard. Dead leaves rustle with the cooler air swirling among the graves. A chill rushes across the back of my neck, evoking a sense that I’m not alone. The lamppost suddenly pops on, its warm glow creating long shadows off the headstones. The feeling shifts to one of being watched. I quickly glance around, looking for the source. Sighing, I touch Celeste’s gravestone and say a final goodbye.

  My emotions ping all over the place as I drive away from the cemetery. Celeste’s death and then seeing the finality of her gravestone hit me hard. Why didn’t she tell someone?

  Life is too fucking short.

  I’m suddenly angry with myself for not calling Calder out on his bullshit earlier and demanding that he tell me what was going on. Whatever it is…it’s way beyond his claim he was protecting me. My gut told me that something was eating at him, but I let him distract me. And then he just walked away.

  Screw it.

  No better time than the present.

  I turn my car around and head in the direction of his apartment.

  By the time I get close to his apartment, common sense and reasoning starts to set in. Calder’s worried for my safety. That’s why he has stayed away. Driving right up to his place is probably not the smartest move. I pull over to the curb and park a hundred feet away, chewing my lip as I stare up at the light on in his place.

  Pressing my forehead to the steering wheel, I realize this is foolish. We’ll have time to talk later.

  I sit up and reach over to turn on the engine when Calder’s apartment door opens. A woman steps out and turns back to say something as she tugs on a sweater over a sports bra.

  My heart tightens and I immediately reach for my camera, zooming in on her face. Fucking Alana! Calder joins her at the door, shirtless, and she laughs at something he says, then leans in and kisses his jaw.

  He’s protecting me? But what about her? He doesn’t look like he doesn’t give a shit about the tattoo artist.

  I snap the shot to remind myself why I’m never speaking to Calder again.

  I glare at her as she lugs her big-ass purse and other bag onto her shoulder. I refuse to stare at how well her leather pants show off her tight ass, but I exhale a breath of relief once she drives away.

  My hand shakes as I try to put the key back in the ignition. Two tries later and I still haven’t managed to get the damn key in. “Fuck!” I scream and throw the keys onto the floorboard.

  Leaning over, I grab my keys and get out of my car, slamming the door shut behind me.

  I don’t knock lightly. I take out my anger and hammer several times on his door.

  He swings it open, a scowl on his face, fist raised…until he sees me and his anger shifts from shock to fury…all in an instant.

  Grabbing my arm, he yanks me into his apartment and quickly shuts the door. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  I yank my arm free and slap him hard. “Fuck you!”

  Calder grips the back of my hair and pushes me against the wall, his hard chest trapping my arm between us. My handprint vivid against his flexing jaw, he bites out, “That’d better be a precursor for one seriously hot fuck, because I sure as shit didn’t deserve that.”

  “You lying bastard!” I grit my teeth at his sheer arrogance and try to slap him again with my free hand, but he grabs my wrist and trap
s it against the wall.

  Folding his fingers tighter in my hair, he tilts my head back, his tone hardening. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “You pretending that keeping your distance was for my safety, when it was all about you screwing your ex-girlfriend.”

  Surprise lights in his eyes before he steps between my legs and aggressively presses his erection against my body. His soft black lounge pants accentuating his steel hardness, he tugs my hair to turn my head to the side and rasp in my ear, “Does this feel like I’ve been fucking someone else, Cass?”

  I close my eyes and refuse to let the feel of him, hard and ready against me, turn me on. I try to keep it together, but my voice shakes with anger. “I know you can go all night, so that only pisses me off more.”

  Calder traces his thumb along the base of my hairline just behind my ear, his breath hot against my temple. “I have never wanted to fuck that sweet pussy of yours more than I do right at this moment, Cass Rockwell.”

  “I saw her leaving, Calder,” I snap, my chest heaving with fury. “Let me go.”

  “No,” he rasps, nipping at my neck.

  I gasp, tears welling. Not from the pain, but because I still can’t help but want him despite his betrayal. He has seriously embedded himself in my heart and screwed with my head.

  He slowly plants hot kisses along my jaw, killing me with wicked intent, his mastery over my body so strong, my muscles tighten in response. Loosening his fingers on my wrist, he slides them down my arm to trace the side of my breast with his thumb. “How does it feel to see me with another person?”

  His incendiary words flint over my raw nerves, sparking my fury once more.

  I shove at his chest, and when he stumbles back a few steps, completely taken by surprise, I run at him like a linebacker, blind rage fueling my strength.